


All the lonely people

by BrieConnor



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 2x21, Betty Cooper Loves Jughead Jones, Episode Tag, F/M, FP Jones loves his son, Jughead Jones-centric, Not Really Character Death, POV Jughead Jones, Why?, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:57:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrieConnor/pseuds/BrieConnor
Summary: He felt a small glimmer of achievement before his world was filled with pain, blow after blow hitting his body – and he let it, for there was no escape.Nothing except darkness, and he welcomed that too.





	All the lonely people

**Author's Note:**

> This last Riverdale episode tore through my heart painfully. Jughead has always been my favourite character and the thought of him being in so much pain was terrifying. Writing this helped me deal with it, and I hope reading it helps others too.  
> The title comes from the Beatles song Eleanor Rigby.

"Slowly, very slowly, he sat up, and as he did so he felt more alive and more aware of his own living body than ever before. Why had he never appreciated what a miracle he was, brain and nerve and bounding heart?"  
\- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: The Forest Again.

Jughead could feel it as if it was in the very constitution of his body. This was the stupidest idea he´d ever had. Yes, he´d been a thorn in Hiram Lodge´s side long enough to simmer the glimmer of hope that his sacrifice would be enough to stop the full fletched war that was knocking on Riverdale´s door, if not forever then at least for a while. And yet, the thought of handing himself over for what promised to be a painful, certain death was something Jughead had never thought of himself doing. It was so crazy, it seemed to have been Archie´s plan and not his, his best friend - the ultimate hero.  
But he´d made the deal anyway, he, aspiring writer and novelist, he, the weird one, the loner. Trading himself for his family and friends, so no-one would suffer the same fate as Fangs. Blood pumped through his veins quickly, his heart beating harshly in his head. He knew he was trembling in expectation - death would come briefly, but he´d never felt more alive, more in tune with everything around him, all that made him, him. He wished he hadn´t had to leave his crown beanie behind, the thought of parting with such a part of his soul in this moment was daunting but knowing he´d had to preserve it because Betty would need it soon.  
Betty.  
There were so many things he wished he could tell her. Many things he had to explain, but didn´t have the time to.  
He´d parked his bike a short distance from where Penny had asked him to meet, hesitating a little as he took out his phone, ready to make one last phone call.  
"Jug," she answered like a question, but Jughead, as in tune with the world as he was in that moment could hear a strain in her voice. What was going on with her? Was she alright? Would he ever know the answer to that question?  
"Betty," He breathed in relief, swallowing tightly, the thought of leaving her when she needed him taking his breath for a second. But this, the hope of doing this was more important. This could mean safety for her. This could mean life.  
"I´m happy to hear your voice," he settled for this, knowing it might be the last time. She exhaled in relief.  
"Me too, Jug. You have no idea."  
"I just wanted to let you know that I love you. I´ll never stop loving you," this, this was the most important thing for her to know, something worth dying for.  
"What are you saying, Jug?" she sounded concerned. He knew she should be. "Where are you?"  
He could hear Archie´s voice in the background and it helped him settle somehow. Good, she wouldn´t be alone. Whatever she was dealing with, their best friend would stand with her.  
The thought of not being there with her, of facing this alone was too much, and he knew he couldn´t handle carrying out the conversation. His eyes wet, his throat burning, he rasped out one last goodbye.  
"I´ll see you soon."  
And as he bravely walked to his doom, he hoped against hope it wasn´t a lie.

-

Anger filled him through determination as he heard the threat against Betty. He was doing this for her safety, and the thought of if being for naught was taunting. Jughead wouldn´t stand still as it happened. So, he takes the first strike.  
He felt a small glimmer of achievement before his world was filled with pain, blow after blow hitting his body – and he let it, for there was no escape.  
Nothing except darkness, and he welcomed that too.

His last thoughts were of the people he – if Penny´s gloating was right, and he doubted it wasn´t – had failed to protect, his mind filled with an image of blonde hair, and then, he knew nothing more.

-

“What have you done?” F.P. muttered as terror filled his limbs. He had a sickening feeling on his stomach, he´d felt like that for hours. At first, he´d thought it had only been typical pre-fight jitters, specially in one with as bad odds as this one. But now, he knew it was something else entirely.  
Jughead had gotten himself into trouble, again.  
Something was terribly wrong.  
Betty´s voice repeated in his thoughts. _I´m really worried about him_. He gripped his bike´s handles forcefully, barely registering the fact that he was speeding way beyond the limit. That was meaningless, the consequences of lawbreaking in his legal status, while his son was missing. Nothing mattered most.  
As he arrived at the site Toni had directed him to, the feeling became stronger. A fire was burning at the center of the empty clearing, woods creating a barrier to the world. The grass was wet with something dark and F.P. Jones sped even more, his eyes hungrily searching for his everything, his family; while his hand went slack and dropped his helmet as his brain registered that the dark liquid was blood.  
“Jughead!” he bellowed to the wind, following the trail from the fire and into the woods. “Son!”  
He stopped abruptly, and the world came to a stop when he spotted a figure lying broken on the grass, left behind to die against discarded  bottles  and fallen leaves. He wasn´t wearing his usual crown beanie, and the leather jacket or sweater that usually protected him from the world were gone, and yet, F.P. knew, even as he got closer and got a better view of the damage, that it was his son.  
Pain, unlike that that had surely taken a hold of Jughead filled him with surety. No.  
No. No. No.  
“Jughead!” he found himself collapsing next to his boy, shaking, he placed a hand on his blood covered cheek as if to assure himself he was there.  
They said that the worst thing a parent could face was having a child hurting, and F.P., who´d given his everything to the boy he´d once driven away, who´d made sure to give Jughead a life even at the cost of his own could tell that was an understatement.  
His son didn´t look like a person anymore.  
Blood and dirt covered him entirely, mixing in a grotesque way. His limbs were twisted in unnatural ways, like someone had cut their strings and left him to fall against the hard ground. And god, his face…  
F.P. had to fight against the howl aching to leave his chest, the tears that threatened to fall from his blurry eyes, but he knew it was hopeless. He gave in.

Panic set in when he noticed his boy was breathing shallowly. He set a clammy hand against his neck, cursing himself for not doing so before.  
He breathed in relief. A beat. Unsteady, but there. There was no time to lose.  
He picked his son, his blood and legacy against his chest, lightweight against his strong arms, but heavy with the feeling of pain and loss.  
He stopped breathing in the way, and somehow, even while conscious and breathing, so did F.P.

-

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

-

Jughead´s phone call taunted her and took her breath away. The thought of him being in trouble was too much to bear, more than it had before their brief separation and it was all consuming.  
Heart beating against her chest, eyes wide, she looked to Archie, her best friend.  
“I have to go,” she rasped out, already thinking of where to go. She´d contact Toni or Cheryl they´d know were to go. Swallowing, she turned to a perplexed Archie, her mom long-forgotten behind her. “Jug´s in trouble. I´ll contact Toni for the details, but I should go now.”  
She stopped when an arm anchored around her arm. It was Fred Andrews. She looked into his concerned eyes, one of the best men she had ever met, and she had to take a breath.  
“Take Archie with you,” he ordered, already throwing his keys to his son. “I´ll stay with Alice. Call us with any news, ok?”  
Betty nodded in urgency, throwing a desperate look at her mom, who nodded in understanding.  
Archie led her by the arm to the truck, and she was numb.

 

-

 

They took too long to get there.  
She hurried out of her seat, Archie behind her, and waved through the Serpents in wait. At last, she spotted Cheryl´s bright red hair, and she was hugging Toni; Sweet Pea standing beside them.  
“Where is he? Where´s Jughead?” she asked, dreading and yet hopeful.  
They shook their heads. There was no news then.  
“Guys look!” Archie exclaimed suddenly, frozen in place, glancing at the mouth of the woods.  
The fire shone brightly beside them, and that was the last thing that registered before they came into view. She´d had hoped to glimpse at F.P. and Jughead arriving together, joking, laughing, telling her all her worry was for nothing.  
Instead, she saw F.P. come into view, and he was carrying someone. The body was still, what looked like a dark arm hanging limply in the air. She felt her feet moving out of their own account, and barely noticed the rest of the gang following her.  
She looked at the pain and tears in F.P.´s face, the devastation, and it hit her.  
The figure was Jug.  
Later, Betty would struggle to find the words to describe what she had felt in that moment. She would never forget it, but would never be able to talk about it, because for a single second, it had felt like the world had stopped. Or maybe she had. Maybe she would be following in Jug´s footsteps and she would become limp as well, welcoming the darkness. Nothing mattered but the sight of the boy she loved hanging in his parent´s arms and the crushing feeling she had that she would never get to spend a moment with him again.

Her hand tightened in a fist and her breath caught in her chest and she was struggling to breathe, struggling to get past the way F.P.´s face was looking, for nothing made sense, not anymore.  
Jug looked dead. His free arm was spotting a gruesome sight – his tattoo had been butchered. His face was… he was bloody and disproportionate. She couldn´t see his chest move to breathe. He looked dead.  
Betty sprung forward as a sob caught in her throat and she wanted to scream. Maybe she was.  
If Jughead was… gone, how would she find her clarity? Who would stand beside her always? Who would be her partner in crime, the Watson to her Sherlock?  
Her fist tightened, and she felt liquid drop from her hands. Blood. She felt nauseated.  
Who would kiss her darkness and love her for it?

-

She crossed the clearing and stood before Jug, her bloody hand coming to rest against his, grabbing it like a lifeline.  
“F.P., is he?” she heard Archie ask, but the answer was drowned out.  
She couldn´t see anything but Jughead.  
“He is not wearing his beanie,” she whispered, fog clearing just enough to realize that. “Where is it? He needs his beanie.”  
“He wasn´t wearing it when I found him,” F.P. rasped out, still clutching his son.  
Betty nodded absently.

-

“Cousin Betty,” she heard Cheryl say gently.  
A hand snaked against her shoulders.  
“Betty, we need to move.”  
She couldn´t understand.  
“Why?”  
Someone was pulling her away from Juggy.  
“We need to take him to a hospital.”  
Wasn´t he already gone? Weren´t the hospitals full?  
Still, Betty let go of his hand, not ready to give up hope. Besides, she wouldn´t leave his side.

-

As soon as F.P., Jughead, Betty and Archie had gone in Fred´s truck, Sweet Pea and Toni gathered the remaining Serpents. The Serpent´s leader´s son may not have been well liked by his gangmates, not anymore, but he was still one of them. And he´d payed the price for his mistakes well enough.  
“A Serpent never stands alone,” Sweet Pea reminded them. “But tonight, Jughead did. We´ve let way too many Serpents down, including Fangs.”  
“I say it´s time we give them hell,” continued Toni, grabbing Cheryl´s hand tightly. “It´s time we showed them no Serpent is alone. It´s time to win this war against them! For Fangs and for Jughead!”  
The Serpents cheered furiously. No one would mess with them anymore. If it didn´t before, this proved it, this meant war.


End file.
